


Blue

by rtaf



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blue Balls, Dancing and Singing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Musical References, Songfic, Swearing, for a while, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5461526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rtaf/pseuds/rtaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My balls will work for you.<br/>They will obey ya!<br/>They really need rescue!<br/>Like Princess Leia!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick thing I came up with after watching the Free Play finale because damn, that was good.  
> If you're wondering, the song is called Blue from Heathers the Musical.

“Hey you,” Miles purrs, walking into the living room where you’re sitting on the couch. You've got your laptop open on your lap and are reading through some emails. 

“Hey babe, just give me two seconds, okay?” you ask, firing off a quick email to your coworker to meet you early at the office tomorrow so you two could finish the work in time for your boss. At least it was only for around eight o’clock, meaning you could still probably get enough sleep to run on. With a cup of coffee or two.

Just as you’re about to hit the logout button, the page refreshes and a new email shows up. You glance up at Miles standing by the wall with a small pout and pat the cushion beside you, offering him a seat.

He gives you a small smile and walks over, sitting down but slumping over so his head rests on your shoulder as you read the new email from your boss. He’s pushing the deadline forward meaning you’d have to go in tomorrow at the ungodly hours of the morning after all.

“Ugh no,” you groan, head falling more to the side as you nuzzle Miles’s. Shooting off an email to your coworker, you tell them that plans were cancelled and just to come in as early as possible. As you search for the right emoji to add to the message you move a hand to find one of Miles’s that are resting in his lap.

Not watching what you’re doing, your hand accidentally hits something else and you smirk, looking down at just what exactly you’re grabbing, even though you have a pretty good idea. Miles meets your eyes and presses a kiss to your lips, leaning into the touch as you stroke his bulge lightly through the smooth fabric of his shorts.

“So what did you want?” you ask, turning back to the screen but continuing your administrations. You feel bad that he’s waiting but you’re seriously preoccupied. Your assistant opens up a chat window and asks if you have to time to work on it now, pitching that you two could share a document through the email client and get some work done in advance.

It’s a good idea but god you just want some time to relax with your boyfriend.

“Just wanted to see if you’re busy because, um…” he trails off and you smirk, the feeling of his cock hardening underneath your hand practically finishes the sentence for you.

“I feel you,” you say, meaning for him to understand that you see where he’s going with it but realizing the double meaning that you’re, y’know, actually feeling him. You giggle and remove your hand.

“We’re gonna have to put this on pause, though. I’m really sorry but I’d rather work on this now than fuck myself over tomorrow morning,” you tell him, threading a hand through his hair.  
“Yeah, no I get it, but are you sure? Cause damn, then I’d have to go take care of this myself,” he replies, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing open mouth kisses to the skin there.

Your head rolls to the side, giving him room despite opening the document in front of you and trying to focus on what’s written there. One of his hands travels up to your breasts, giving one a squeeze.

You jump a bit, pushing his hand away and scooting over, away from him on the couch. “Okay, no, not happening. Just wait it out, babe. An hour max,” you say sternly, trying to get your point across. 

Miles huffs a little but you know he’s not truly mad. “You make my balls so blue,” Miles says and for a minute you’re taken by surprise.

“You hurt them badly. You make my balls so blue, they’re hangin' sadly,” he continues, singing the words and it’s then when you recognize the song. 

“Are we really gonna do this?” you ask, not budging from your spot but watching him stand up from the couch. What a fucking dweeb, jeez. Although, you do have to hand it to him, for coming up with this so quickly.

“What did they do to you? That you hate them so?” he asks, voice fitting the song as he does some spins, getting into character and acting like he’s begging you.

“Don't run from me, they're all beat up like a tackling dummy,” he sings with a laugh, grabbing his bulge from the outside of his shorts and holding it as he hip thrusts to the words. You giggle and roll your eyes, so this is the reason he stuck to voice acting and not a singing career.

“You make my balls so blue! Just look at them glow… They're begging you! Don't make my balls so blue!” You figure he’s going to stop soon, not expecting him to go any further in the song. He’ll probably get bored of this within the next minute.

You look back at the chat where your coworker is asking you what you think of one paragraph, highlighted on the page in pink. You skim it quickly, giving her the okay to continue and adding a sentence to the end.

“Once you were geeky and nerdy but they knew you're dirty. You've set them on fire,” he continues, causing you to draw your attention away from your work once again. He’s now just in his boxers and his shorts are on the floor beside him. Wow, he’s really going for it.

You stand up, putting your laptop to the side. You’re not giving up, just walking past him and letting him follow you around the wall, into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you take out the carton of pineapple mango juice. You reach into the cabinet beside you and pull out a glass, pouring yourself some of the beverage and drinking it down in quick gulps. 

When there’s a few sips left you turn around and offer the rest to Miles. He takes the glass from you with a smile and as he takes a sip you take in the peace and quiet. Perfect, he’s distracted and done so you can go finish the-

“Whatever you require they'll do! So, take them home to meet your parents!” he jumps back into the song. Alright, you give up. He’s going to finish the song so you may as well wait until he’s done to break the bad news that, once again, he’s going to have to wait. Even though you’re beginning to feel a bit impatient too.

“They'll wear a suit and tie.”

“And a fancy collar?” you ask teasingly, taking the glass from him and taking a few steps to place it in the sink. Remembering to close the fridge door once you walk back over.

“They'll sing a lullaby!” he shouts, wide grin on his face now that you're joining him in song.

“La la la la la!” you add.

“They really need rescue!”

“Like Princess Leia!” you sing together, laughing at your favorite part of the song. Maybe some night soon when you’re both not swamped with work you two can watch it again, have a Heathers night.

“Baby, you've got to come through,” he says, speaking more than singing at this point. You take his hand, lacing your fingers together and dragging him from the kitchen and through the door to your bedroom. “My balls are in your court!” he yells, rubbing his thumb against your hand. 

Deciding to give in to both your needs, you lie down on the bed, pulling him to do the same.

“Please make their dreams come true, and make these balls not blue,” he finishes, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“See, I knew it would work,” he tells you, moving so he’s hovering over you and laughing as you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at him. “I wouldn't be talking anymore, Luna. If I were you I’d take what I can get right now,” you try to say, faking a serious tone but knowing it’s not working, instead coming off in a joking manner.

He slides the hand that's not propping him up, up your shirt and beneath your bra, giving your nipple a squeeze. You let out a low hum in appreciation but tell him to flip over, “let’s take care of you first, Mr Blue balls.”


End file.
